Simon had just come back from the pub with the rest of the team after a very successful mission, and while you could usually count on him coming back sober, it looked like he had....more than one too many to drink.

For starters, he reeked of whiskey and could barely walk. You don't even know how he got back to the barracks by himself, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't find it a tad sweet he ended up at your door.

That's how you ended up here, trying to put him to bed, in your bed. "Listen, go to sleep and I'll watch over you, please" you say sounding like you are simultaneously scolding and pleading with him.

"Take off your clothes" he mumbles drunkingly leaning against you as you try to wrangle him to lay down.

"Simon!" You are trying very hard not to laugh at him as you finally get him flopped down.

"I gotta go to bed..." he slurs a bit rolling over before rolling back over.

"Simon-" you repeat with more exasperation as you at least try to get his shoes off but he quickly kicks you away.

"I don't wanna do this" he grumbles tossing around.

"Stop it-" you scold him still trying to pry his shoes off.

"Get your hands off me-" he groans trying to sit up and swipe you away with his hands. "You sick idiot" he adds flopping back down.

You give up and lean back crossing your arms looking down at him. "You're such a freak-" you mumble. "Pull it together."

"aaaaaAAAAAHHHHH" he groans flailing around again.